


Vanity

by reanimatrix



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-21
Updated: 2011-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:09:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reanimatrix/pseuds/reanimatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fluffy, sugary, F!Hawke/Fenris fic for your fluffy, sugary needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanity

Ursula Hawke was not a beautiful girl, or even a pretty girl, and she was okay with that. Bethany had always been the pretty one, and Ursula had been the tough one, who threatened to beat the boys with sticks when they pulled Bethany’s hair. They wouldn’t dare pull Ursula’s, though hers was longer than her younger sister’s.

She was a tall woman, taller than most elven men, and thin, like a rail. Being an apostate she rarely wore a mage’s robes, favoring instead the tunic and pants of a rogue, which were easier to move in anyway, but made her seem even less feminine. Her one concession to femininity was a long braid of chestnut brown hair that ended where her legs started, and she claimed it was because she had neither the patience nor the time to mess with her hair and cut it.

As a matter of fact, she was sometimes confused for Carver’s younger brother—something that she often allowed, because it brought Carver much joy. That was probably the reason he loved her, deep down, despite the fact that she loved nothing more than to annoy him.

It annoyed him, for example, how much better she was at killing people. He was the warrior, the brother, the only boy in the family, and yet she was the one who had the name known for being efficient and not exactly one to be messed with, though she was also known for her kindness and cheerful demeanor. Still, in spite of herself she was making quite a name, and so she owed it to Carver to let his less informed friends think she was his little brother, once in a while.

So, when a random street thug managed to cut her braid off at the nape of her neck, Hawke was a little surprised at how upset she was.

She had been heading to the docks with Isabela, Fenris and Anders when they had been attacked by a gang who didn’t know any better. The would-be muggers had been quickly and efficiently handled, but one had managed to get uncomfortably close, and she supposed she was lucky that the only thing she had lost was her hair. She had also had a long thin cut along the back of her neck, but Anders had easily healed that, like he always did. And Fenris didn’t get why she valued the mage so, but that was Fenris for you.

And she supposed he had a point, since Anders couldn’t grow her hair back. Not that she had asked. It was shallow of her to be this upset over her missing braid, and she had no intention of letting on to anyone that it was getting to her.

She stared at the mirror in her bedroom, running a hand through her suddenly shorter hair and trying not to pout a little. She was being a baby and she should stop. It could have been much worse.

She rubbed her incredibly exposed neck and sighed. Probably best to just move on before she gave in to the melodrama. It was only hair. It was ugly now, but it was only hair. It was the only thing she had ever thought was pretty on her, but it was only hair.

Taking a deep breath she found her usual pants and tunic and donned them. At least she didn’t have to take the time to brush and braid her hair today. It was short and even more convenient for laziness and a busy schedule.

And ugly.

She shook that thought out of her mind and tied the laces on her boots.

She headed down to check her mail and see if Bodahn had any letters for her. Chances were he would have, he always did, and it would be a nice distraction. Why did she need a distraction? She was being a fool. It was only hair. Her sister was dead and her brother was a Gray Warden and likely to get eaten by a darkspawn and she was nearly in tears over her stupid hair.

This wasn’t making her feel better, or less likely to cry.

She sniffed and took a deep breath before someone asked what she was upset about.

She wasn’t upset!

Her dog padded over to her as soon as she got off the bottom stair, and licked her hand, looking at her with big brown worried eyes. She scratched behind the dog’s ears distractedly, smiling at her, but unlike most humans, dwarves, and elves, the dog could not be fooled with a fake smile. She thumped her stumpy tail on the floor and whined. Hawke knelt down in front of her and hugged her dog, who licked the side of her face with a huge long tongue.

“Hawke, are you all right?”

Her spine straightened in surprise and she looked up. She hadn’t realized Fenris was here. He had a way of being absolutely silent on his bare feet despite the giant sword. It flummoxed her. She furrowed her brow at him.

“What makes you think I’m not?” she asked, her voice taking its usual cheerful upswing.

Fenris tilted his head and shrugged a little, his own contrasting brow furrowing back. “I’m not as unaware as I seem, Hawke. You’ve been… not your obnoxious self for the past few days.”

“Well, I’m glad you were so worried about my not annoying you as much as usual that you felt it was necessary to ask me!” she replied with the same false cheer.

“Hawke.”

“What? And why do you call me that anyway? My name is Ursula, Fenris!”

“Everyone calls you Hawke. And stop trying to distract me. It won’t work this time.”

She pouted at him.

“And don’t give me that look either, unless you intend to tell me what has really upset you.”

She looked at Fenris and felt her lower lip shake traitorously. He said nothing, and neither did she for a couple moments.

“My hair is UGLY!” she suddenly wailed, and the tears came, and she felt stupid crying at someone about her hair, someone who had been a slave and gone through more in his life time than she could possibly ever imagine, someone who would probably tell her as much, and who would be right. She wasn’t pretending to be dumb and vapid like she usually did, she was being honestly dumb and vapid, and that made all the difference.

Fenris tilted his head slightly, in a very cat-like way, and then walked around the dog and hugged her. Hawke turned around into his arms, and he leaned over, though he didn’t have to lean much, and kissed her lips. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. Fenris reached down with his long fingers and ran his hand through her short hair.

The kiss lasted some moments and she pulled away.

“Tell me my hair is still pretty, Fenris.” She said shakily, feeling pathetic the entire time. Such a stupid thing to be upset about.

“Your hair is still pretty, Hawke.”

“You don’t mean it.” She pouted at him, and now she was mostly being playful, because she knew the whiny tone annoyed him. There was however, a part of her that wanted to make him insist. “Mean it!”

She took the gauntlet of off his right hand and dropped it on the floor, then took his hand and set it on top of her head in a rather silly way.

Fenris looked at her in complete and utter confusion. This was a look she had leaned to know, cherish and cultivate in him.

She bit back a smile, then turned it into a mock pout.

“Play with my hair, Fenris! You haven’t even disagreed with me about its ugliness!”

“Your hair is beautiful, Hawke.” Fenris said in that infuriatingly quiet, subdued way that was so frustrating sometimes, the one that someone who didn’t know him better would mistake for aloofness.

“You don’t mean that. It was before, but now it’s ugly!” she said with a pout that was, to her inner shame, somewhat sincere.

“No, I think I like it better this way. It dragged you down before,” he said, still quietly.

He had not moved the hand she’d placed in her head and now he ran it through her now short hair, taking it in gentle handfuls and letting it go, his surprisingly soft fingertips massaging and tickling her scalp a little.

Hawke’s eyes widened in surprise at how pleasant a sensation that was. She had never had anyone do that before. Once the initial surprise was over, her eyes closed in pleasure.

“I’ve never been able to do this,” he pointed out, his voice rather close to her ear as he leaned in to take a strand and wind it around his finger. “It was too long before, and always in that braid.”

“Mmmm…” she replied, smiling a little. “Don’t stop.”

If she had had her eyes opened she would have seen that tiny hidden smile that she loved so much on his lips.

“Yes, I think I like it much better this way.”

Giggling slightly, she took his hand and led him up the stairs…


End file.
